It’s been a summer of travel, to far-flung and often breath-taking vistas. Still, a two hour plane ride back to my second (third?) home in Indiana is always surprising and wonderful.
Too many people think of Indiana as one big cornfield. It does have a lot of cornfields, but so much more. My friend Peggy lives in the northern reaches of Indianapolis, a good jumping off point for exploring the northern areas of the state. So, we set off to visit another friend, Sue, and her husband Tom who live near Lake Michigan.
The lake was riled up when we took a stroll on the dunes of Miller Beach. If you didn’t know better (and also if you didn’t notice and recognize the skyline of downtown Chicago in the distance) you would swear you were at the ocean. The remnants of the end of summer littered the beach: a broken folding chair, a ruined flip flop or two, and a lone sock harboring a colony of lady bugs.
We drove south to a smaller and less wild-looking waterway, Cedar Lake, one of the smallish glacial lakes dotting northern Indiana. A historic resort, Lassen’s, has been turned into a museum which tells the story of the ice harvested on the lake, notable people who lived in the community surrounding the lake, and the resort itself. We took a ride on the replica of the steam powered launch which took visitors from the Monon Line railway from Chicago to Lassen’s for rest and relaxation “back in the day.”
Back in Indianapolis, we took our friend Susan’s advice and visited the Restoration Hardware showroom/restaurant/scenic experience which opened last year in a not-really-historic palatial mansion. Better known as the DeHaan Estate, the property has an interesting backstory you can read here. Among other things, before super-rich time share mogul and philanthropist Christel DeHaan built the mansion in the early 2000s, a seminary for African-American Catholics was located there. RH bought the house and property for a cool $14.5 million.
Who knew, right? But Indiana always surprises me, no matter how many times I visit, and Peggy is the perfect companion to “wander” with and discover new wonders! Here are some of the highlights in pictures:
The first day I visited, the iconic Indiana pork cutlet, which I had craved, was consumed. The typical cutlet sandwich is so huge, we split it and it was still a bellyful. Well, that and onion rings on the side of course…This is probably many people’s idea of an Indiana landscape. On our way to northern Indiana, we stopped for grilled cheese and super-butterfat-saturated ice cream at Fair Oaks Farm. Not to be missed unless your’e lactose intolerant!White caps and waves at Miller Beach. See the tiny Chicago skyline view just left of center. One of two steam launches, called the Dewey Line, at Lassen’s historic resort. We took the 20-minute narrated ride across to the Monon Railway site and back. The launch was the fastest and most fun way to travel from the train to the resort on the opposite side of the lake. On the way back to Indianapolis, we stopped in Renssalaer, Indiana to take the Ren Art Walk. Historic court house in the background. I liked the pink coneflowers, though there were plenty more murals to gawk at. Saturday evening seems to be the time many locals with souped up cars rev them up and go cruising around the square, so maybe not the most serene time to visit?!Not officially part of the art walk, but also seen in Renssalaer on a side street. Indiana, keeping it weird!The Palladian style DeHaan mansion, front view. View of dining room. It seems the food is underwhelming according to reviews. We just got $5 glasses of iced tea at the wine bar and roamed the house and grounds. You could also just swan in, buy nothing, and have fun being a cheap interloper. (Which, as regular readers may recall, is what Peggy and I did last year in historic French Lick! ) This kind of strategically placed statuary is everywhere, creating impressive sight lines wherever you look. And finally, another view of the patio with the lake. Tune in to Indiana adventures next year – we’re thinking of going east/northeast next time!
Our visit to the Nordic countries at the beginning of the summer season seems so long ago now, viewing it from the end of August. But, it still merits one more blog post!
When we discovered during our trip planning that Tallinn, Estonia is just an easy two-hour ferry ride across the Baltic Sea from Helsinki, we had to take advantage of the opportunity to add another country to our itinerary. We also read, and heard, that Tallinn had a lovely Medieval old town, on the Unesco World Heritage list, had many interesting sites, and was very walkable.
After a pleasant, uneventful passage on the huge ferry, we arrived at the port entry, and decided to walk to the Old Town where we had booked our accommodations. It’s not very far, but you have to cross a couple of very busy roads, and there was a lot of constuction, so it was not the most fun walk ever with roller board baggage in tow.
When we got to the vicinity of our Air BNB, we could not for the life of us find the entrance to the apartment building. Enter a very nice older woman who took us through a (secret?) basement passage, pointing us to the lobby of our building, and then disappeared. Was she a magical guide, or just a local who was more than done with us, once she had safely delivered us to the proper address? Either way, she did some clueless strangers a big favor, which boded well for our visit. (Come to find out, the entrance was virtually around the corner, but the directions were rather opaque.)
During our first foray into Old Town, we sought sustenance. It is de rigeur to try one of several pancake restaurants sprinkled throughout the area. This was not your light, airy and namby-pamby French style crepe, nor your doughy American breakfast offering. A heavy-duty affair, stuffed to the gills with meat, cheese (and maybe some nod to vegetables) arrived promptly to our table. Truth in advertising, the Kompressor has myriad choices of filled pancakes, and at very reasonable prices. Prepare to be as stuffed as the pancake if you eat it all. The dark wood interior also looks very Medieval (and maybe not redecorated since that era), to get you in the mood for exploring Old Town.
Stopping by the Visitor Center right in the heart of Old Town (where the staff all seems to have excellent English and are very helpful) will orient you to the city with maps, brochures, and answers to even your dumbest questions. We discovered (on our own, since we didn’t think to ask) that the Maritime Museum, which was just down the street from our apartment, had evening hours that day, and also a senior discount! It is located in one of the gate towers flanking the city, and is well worth a visit.
That was a highlight of the above ground cultural sites, but the next day, we did the below part. After venturing outside the gates to visit the market near the train station, and a very cool contemporary arts district, we finally figured out where the entrance to the Kiek in de Kök Fortification Museum was located. This museum complex includes an underground tour of the “Bastion passages,” an extensive series of tunnels.
Upon later comparing notes with a number of friends who have also visited Tallinn, not one of them had descended into this fascinating find. It is apparently not on too many of the “what to do if you only have two or three days in Tallinn” lists, but it was one of my favorite parts of our time there. Eerie, full of layers of history, and a cool respite from the unseasonably warm day, it hit several marks for this tourist!
My other favorite find was the (free!) medical museum, the Town Hall Pharmacy, purported to be “the oldest pharmacy in Europe that has continually operated on the same premises.” Just a couple of rooms, really, but very interesting and right in the thick of town center.
All in all, we really enjoyed our two nights, and almost three days in Tallinn. We missed a lot of things, naturally, but I think we packed in a good deal. Above and below, Tallinn ranks high in my recommendation of Nordic-adjacent cities to visit. Check some more details in the photos below, and feel free to let me and other readers know what you enjoyed if you have ever been there!
Steve tucks into a pancake (pictured is half of the pancake!). We got a salad to round things out.There are a lot of levels in Tallinn, and a lot of ups and downs. And street art, too. Here, you can see how the lower and upper portions of the city form a sort of layer cake of building ages and styles. The Maritime Museum entrance is right through this gate, in Fat Margaret’s tower. Like Finland, the Estonians do a good job of repurposing historic structures for new uses. The first portion of the underground museum is a collection of stone carvings from various locations, relocated in theme rooms to this expansive space. It was really the tip of the proverbial iceberg! This might give you some inkling of the extent, and levels, of the series of underground passageways. It goes on and on through space and time, revealing that the tunnels were used as a route for the military, a bomb shelter, a storage area for Russian propaganda, a punk rock band practice space, a homeless encampment. As if the sort of creepy space was not creepy enough, there are mannequins dressed in period clothes, colored mood lights, and even some ghostly hologram type stuff. There’s also an above ground portion of the underground museum (three or four floors worth) which is part of remaining section of wall in this once-totally-walled city. My “art shot” of the Orthodox Cathedral, from one of the upstairs windows of the museum. We ventured into this impressive edifice but found it to be dark, gloomy and not at all inviting. It’s pretty from the outside though. You can take a tram or bus to other parts of the city, if you get tired of the historic Old Town, or just want to find out what else Tallinn has to offer. We trammed it to the Kadrioru Park, home to Tsar Peter I’s summer home, Kadrioru Castle (reminiscent of Versailles, and now an art museum) which was closed for the day by the time we got there. We visited the Japanese garden, shown here. One could spend a whole day just visiting this park.Art shot #2, the Town Square turned upside down in an apothecary jar.
Though it seems like a while back now, I wasn’t done reporting on our trip to the Nordic countries back in late May/early June. For one thing, I felt compelled to write about the beautiful day we had in the Southeastern Swedish countryside with our friend Gunhilde.
Our day started at Gunhilde’s current home, which has been in her partner’s family for nine generations. It is a picturesque complex of buildings, stained red in by the traditional method, including a sprawling farmhouse and various outbuildings. (Someone else’s) herd of white cows graze placidly in an adjacent meadow, and the property backs up to the woods. In other words, a setting straight out of a Swedish fairy tale, but minus the mischievous elves and other supernatural and sometimes malevolent beings.
After a leisurely breakfast and gathering ourselves together, we drove to the largest nearby town, making a stop for some errands before our first adventure: a Moose Safari. Basically, you drive your car around a fairly long loop trail in the woods, where the owners have gathered a bunch of moose in a natural setting (for safekeeping I guess, as well as to delight visitors). The moose seem pretty content with this arrangement. (And, this is better than encountering a wild, loose moose around a bend on a country road, it is to be noted.) We learned a lot about moose habits from the informative signage! We did see at least five or six moose, and the “bonus” – a slightly mangy herd of American bison.
Next, back home to the farm, to embark on a scenic walk to a nearby lake. We made an important detour from the lakeside into the farmland to visit Gunhilde’s favorite tiny bakery shop to pick out pastries. (More about how the pastries fit into the perfect Swedish day below.) By way of the lake, and then a stroll through the woods, we looped back to the farmstead.
By then, having had our exercise, we were ready to put the pastries to good use. I think we ate a light dinner first, but then indulged in our pastries not so much as “dessert” but in the traditional Swedish manner of fika. Fika is sort of like a coffee break, or afternoon tea, but really the only rule is that you get to eat some delicious pastries of your choice (cinnamon or cardamon buns are classic), sip a hot beverage, and chat, laugh, and generally enjoy yourselves with friends. You could do fika alone, too, but pastries are still a must, and it’s more fun with company.
The last act of the day was to go pet the cows (Gunhilde sang them a song) and watch the sunset. “Last act” since the sun doesn’t set in the Nordic countries in the summer until almost ten p.m., and is up again by 4 a.m.!
All in all, a really wonderful time and a great break from visiting the cities on our agenda. Experience it here in photos, and here’s hoping you had your own perfect summer day this season. If so, feel free to tell us about it in the comments!
A view of the farmstead, house on left, stables/garage on left, outbuildings in back.Breakfast in the Nordics usually involves bread, cheese, fruit, veggies, muesli, and yogurt. If you’re staying at a hotel that offers breakfast, it is quite a spread involving a lot more food, but here, the basics and then some! This was my best photo of a charming moose we encountered “on safari.” (Unlike safari in Africa, you can hang out the window to get a photo and don’t worry that something is going to jump in and eat you for lunch.)In case you ever wanted to know the most intimate details about moose, such as how they can tell what direction the wind is blowing, you can find out in several languages. Along the lake walk, with ever present birches. Exterior, bakeshop, which is attached to the barn of the farmstead. They also sell plants and second hand items.Interior, bake shop. Steve contemplates our purchases while Gunhilde works out the cash-only payment.Walk through the woods.View of the boggy stand of woods, extremely atmospheric!Our fika spread from the bake shop! I don’t recall what each of these was, but they were all scrumptious.Nature treated us to the perfect ending to a perfect day.
There are vacations , and then, there are experiences of a lifetime. Joining my friend Dorey and six of her other buddies for a stay at Outer Shores Lodge in Bamfield, British Columbia to celebrate a “landmark birthday,” is definitely in the latter category.
We sort of knew what we were “in for” – beautiful scenery, excursions on the water, some cultural and marine biological learning, and – maybe best of all – someone was going to cook for us. But I don’t think any of us were prepared for the superlatives that filled in those basics. Spectacular scenery, amazing excursions, unforgettable learning experiences, and – definitely best of all – having a superbly talented chef and her staff serving us three mouth-watering meals a day (plus bonus happy hour snacks with a view!).
For four days and four nights we reveled in this utopian dream. We forgot that it took us at least five conveyances and two days to get there. We forgot whatever it was that we left behind at home (work? families? obligations? what??). We almost forgot our own names at times I think. We definitely lived in and for the moment, tried everything (well almost – no dips in freezing cold water for me thanks!) And didn’t regret any of it. (mmm, for me, maybe regretting snorkling in a wet suit – not my sport for sure!)
We didn’t need to stray far from the lodge for a lot of action. A bear sauntered through the orchard, and even around the rocky tide pool one morning. The resident bald eagle flew from one group of evergreens to another regularly. Hummingbirds flitted around the feeders and the bright red fuchsia flowers. (The fuchsia bush was right next the the hot tub. Nuff said.) And every night we were treated to a lovely sunset from the bluff above the lodge.
But we did venture out for many adventures. Kayaking, twice. To the nearby beach once. On a picnic to a further island, during which we sighted seals and oyster catchers, and a thrilling, bumpy ride over the waves to even further islands another day, where our group saw a humpback whale, among other things (thanks to the keen eye of our guide/lodge owner Russ).
It was our special privilege one day to be spirited down a spongy, magical rain forest trail to the archeological site of the traditional summer home of a local First Nations community, the Huu-ay-aht. Our guide, Qiic Qiica (aka Keats), not only related the story of the remnants of the buildings, but drummed and sang for us, and his young niece danced, while we perched on rocks on the gorgeous isolated beach near the settlement.
When our four days were up, and we had to face the long trip home, it was quite traumatic. We certainly didn’t want to leave. A week after departing, we are still expressing wonder and gratitude on our text chain. Experiences like this don’t just happen, so we all thank the staff and co-owners of the lodge for making this such a memorable one. (Read about some of them here.) We also have to profusely thank Dorey’s friend and lodge co-owner Becca for all she did to make this trip so special. And of course Becca and Russ’s son, Dylan (who is wise beyond his years but as delightful as any eight year old boy at the same time.) And Simon, who seemed to be everywhere doing everything, from helping in the kitchen, to guiding our kayak expeditions, to dredging up sea cucumbers and sea urchins for our inspection.
It’s hard to pick just a few photos to try to sum up our time in Bamfield, but here’s an attempt. If you ever have a chance to travel to Outer Shores or some other similar destination (I’m sure there are some out there, though we think this was the best ever!), jump on it, even if you have doubts.
An informative sign about the small hamlet of Bamfield greeted us at the dock after our two-hour van ride over the mountains and through the woods. (Several people said it reminded them in many ways of the town depicted in the by-gone tv show, Northern Exposure, but in a good way.)
You know you’re in for something special when this is the path you take to get there.Here’s the lodge from the water just to give some perspective.The first day we got there, we set off after lunch to Brady’s Beach, a not so long walk from the lodge. Some brave souls even took at plunge in the (rather frigid) water, but beach combing and dipping my toes in was fine by me.Our intrepid kayaking “pod.” We saw a baby bear and an eagle on our first trip out. The approach to our guided tour of the First Nations archeology site. These figures are replicas of a pair of carvings depicting the first man and woman. The originals are apparently being repatriated to the community soon.Keats points out a remaining corner post of one of the structures of the village.Drumming, singing and dancing on the beach near the village site. Winding down after a day of activity was easy with appetizers and wine on the back deck facing the inlet!And we’re off! Though this view makes it seem as though we were in a small inflatable, it is actually a pretty substantial rigid-hull boat, but it packs a wallop riding the waves! It doesn’t get fresher than this. The huckleberries gracing this panna cotta, were picked by Dylan and Simon for our eating pleasure earlier in the day. Sorry, bears.Speaking of bears… maybe this one was looking for his lost huckleberries?Becca, who is a marine biologist, gives us a primer on bull kelp. (The bulb holds enough noxious gas to knock out a chicken?!)Sigh, is all I can say.
The Nordic countries are all about water, and ships tell a lot about their intertwined histories. Two excellent museums featuring historic watercraft, the Vasa Museum in Stockholm and the Viking Ships Museum in Roskilde (near Copenhagen) captured our imaginations and filled us in on both the life of the eras the ships represent, and the intricacies of underwater archeology projects on a huge scale.
When we asked friends for advice of what to see in Stockholm, just about everyone suggested the Vasa Museum. Much more than “a museum with a really big ship” (paraphrasing one of my friends), it is a museum with a REALLY big ship (four stories high and about 2/3 as long as a football field) as its centerpiece, and lots of interesting interpretation about the ship’s origins and how it got into the museum.
Basically, this towering war ship was built in the early 1620s to show off the prowess of the Swedish king, Gustav II Adolph. It was elaborately carved and painted, fit out with 64 cannon ports, and could accommodate 130 crew members and 300 soldiers. The problem is, it was not particularly seaworthy, and sunk on its maiden voyage in the Stockholm harbor, within sight of its launching dock.
There it lay, 105 feet below, settling further and further into the mud, until some enterprising individuals in the late 1950s finally conquered the technology to bring it up and stabilize the old wood so it wouldn’t crumble into bits. At the museum, side galleries with the story of this incredible endeavor, as well as galleries exploring the building of the ship and life around the docks in the 1600s, and lots more, garnish the ship itself. But, let’s face it, the sheer bulk and remarkable (relative) state of preservation of the behemoth are the big draw. I would definitely echo the advice of our friends and urge you to put this on your itinerary should you find yourself in Stockholm.
The second ship museum we visited is a short train ride from Copenhagen. This is not a “Viking Museum” per se, but rather a museum housing the iron and (some) wood skeletons of five ships of various sizes from the Viking era. These five ships explain a lot about the day to day life of those times (circa 800-1050 BC). Vikings, many people assume, were just a bunch of rowdy marauders who sailed around plundering other people’s fortunes.
Well, there was actually some of that, but as the ships reveal, not all Viking boats were used for sea-going treasure seeking. There is a small and larger war ship, but also ships used for local travel and ferrying merchandise to market. These ships had served their purposes, and were deliberately sunk in a channel of the fjord (not one of those dramatic fjords like the ones in Norway, but a very pretty body of water with land on three sides anyway) to deter enemy ships from attacking the town.
Like the Vasa, the Viking ships of Roskilde were brought up and preserved. Unlike the Vasa, they were in much shallower water (and also a lot smaller and lighter), and the recovery team was able to build a sort of dam all around the site, pumped out the water, and what was left of the ships emerged from their watery graves. Very cool, and explained in detail in one gallery of the museum.
Having accomplished all sorts of tests on the remaining wood, the scientisits working on the project found that one ship had actually been built in Dublin, Ireland. (Now I understand why there are so many red haired Irish people!?) They built a replica of the ship, and sailed it to Ireland. The ship, and other replicas, reside at the docks of the museum and now you, too, can “play Viking” and help propel this and another replica around the fjord via sails and oars. (We opted out of this activity!) The museum grounds also include boat building and rope making shops.
I must also report that there is a very amazingly imposing cathedral in Roskilde, full of ornate tombs of various Danish royalty. The downtown has some great eating options, (including an Indian restaurant we treated ourselves to). So, this small city makes a great day trip from Copenhagen.
Two museums in two Nordic countries, lots of history represented in their ships. Check them out in some photos below, and visit them if you go on some Nordic Adventures of your own.
The bow end of the Vasa has an impressive amount of carving, relatively well preserved.A scale model replica is near the original, to show how the ship would have been painted in its heyday.Some of the carvings have been replicated and painted in the original colors as well. They were meant to be imposing, impressive, and scary to foes. Big boat indeed! Note the tiny little people poised on the various overlooking balconies for scale!Viking Ships Museum showing several of the five ships. Not as much “meat on the bones” as the Vasa, but several hundred years older so what do you expect? Beautiful view of the fjord from the wall of windows. Boat building shop, as it says on the sign they were currently building a traditional Faroe Islands boat.The replica that was sailed to Ireland, ready to take visitors out for a Viking experience!Bonus, non ship photo: Roskilde Cathedral.Bonus #2, interior of one of the tomb rooms in the Cathedral.
For us Washington, DC types, New York City can seem pretty daunting. But, with the right guidance and a spirit of adventure, it is also energizing and endlessly interesting. My guide for a short visit last week to “The City” as my mother used to call it (because she grew up in and around it) was one of my favorite people, Hanna, who I met way back in grad school in the 1980s.
Hanna met me at what is now called Moynihan Train Hall, aka Penn Station. The layout of the hall is confusing, and it took at least a half hour to figure out where to meet one another. (How did we ever find each other before cell phones?) I might have eventually found myself to her apartment in the Upper West Side (with an amazing view of the George Washington Bridge), but maybe not, so I really appreciated her city sherpa-like skills and willingness to fetch me.
During my first full day, Hanna and I had a morning nature walk along the Hudson River on the Fort Washington Park trail. She introduced me to the Little Red Lighthouse which is a testimony to the power of literature. The decommissioned lighthouse was in peril of being auctioned off in 1948m but was saved by lovers of a beloved children’s book by Hildegarde Swift and Lynd Ward. We also had a surprising encounter along the trail – see pictures below to find out what it was!
In the afternoon, Hanna walked me to the Cloisters, which is officially part of the Metropolitan Museum, located on the edge of Fort Tryon Park on a bluff above the Hudson. My curiosity to visit this relocated Medieval melange of buildings and artworks was piqued by recently reading the murder mystery, The Cloisters, by Katy Hays. (Encore, the power of literature?) Experiencing the atmosphere of somber gray stone and viewing masterpieces of religious art, tapestries, sculptures, stained glass, illuminated manuscripts and strangely shaped reliquaries made a couple of hours fly by. The gardens were not at their best in the winter, of course, but it’s a good reason to come back in the late spring/summer/fall sometime in the future.
Next day, I started off by visiting another museum I had never been to in NYC, the New York Historical Society, on the edge of Central Park. Hanna had business around 91st Street, so I walked from there to the museum’s 77th and Central Park West location, an adventure in and of itself. As my mother always explained, the numbered blocks in NYC are “short blocks” but by the time I reached the museum, they did not feel so short. The three floors of great exhibitions was worth the effort, though. I especially enjoyed the Tiffany Lamps, and learned that (of course) a woman, Clara Driscoll, designed most of them.
After Hanna caught up with me, we made our way to a Georgian restaurant, Chama Mama in Chelsea, and ordered that hot cheesy wonder, the khachapuri. Onward, fortified, to view the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire Memorial near (or even on) the NYU campus. Continuing on the power of literature theme, years ago I read the engrossing if quirky novel of historic New York, Dreamland, by Kevin Baker and never forgot the wrenching part about the fire and the (mostly young women) who perished in it.
The final exhibition visit was at the City Lore gallery, to view an exhibition on African American doll and puppet makers curated by another of my favorite people, Camila Bryce LaPorte, and friends/colleagues Diana N’Diaye and Phyllis May-Machunda. (The exhibition is only up for another couple of weeks, so visit fast if you’re in NYC or traveling there.)
After a jolly Japanese dinner with several NY area based folklore women, Hanna and I made our way back to her apartment (I definitely would have gotten lost on my own, as we transferred twice on this subway trip). Next day, after breakfast, she guided me back to Penn Station and I got on the train back to DC armed with “a bagel and a schmear” for the road.
A perfect post-retirement treat of a trip, all around, and largely thanks to Hanna. Here are some photos of the experience!
Hanna poses with her morning coffee near the Little Lighthouse. Note skyline in distance.Apparently, displaced deer are not so unusual in this area, but this little girl calmly strolling in the shadow of the GW Bridge was a surprise to us!There are no bad views of the interior of the Cloisters, it seems. Okay, so Tunisia is still on my mind so I had to take a snap of this fanciful camel. It seems camels came to medieval Spain as a curiosity with “The Moors.” There are several iconic gardens. Not much blooming outside but a few helibores and perrenial herbs this time of year, but you can see the potential and the setting is still gorgeous. Edgar Allan Poe really got around during his relatively short life. I should write a blog sometime about my encounters with his memory in Baltimore, Charlottesville, Richmond, Providence, and now NYC. But I might need to visit the Raven statues first, which I did not this time around.Also seen on my walk between the 90s and the 70s, a masterful knit bomb by artist Carmen Paulino, AKA Carmen Community Artist. I especially like the 3-D rat.A view of the many variations of the Tiffany Lamps at the Historical Society Museum. There was a fun interactive in the upstairs portion where you could change the colors of the glass on a lampshade. Khachapuri, a great reward for all that walking and art and history viewing. A salad on the side just because.Triangle Fire memorial. It took us a minute to figure out you could see the names of all the victims reflected in the polished (glass? marble?)etched with quotes. A great deal of information is packed into a small space in “The Calling: The Transformative Power of African American Doll and Puppet Making” exhibition at the City Lore gallery. Definitely worth a visit!
After an amazing trip full of colors, tastes, new sights, new friends, it’s hard to sort out all the impressions into coherent explanations. I can’t blame it on jet lag anymore, as it has been a week and half since we returned. It’s just so…unbelievable that we were actually there? Hard to summarize?
Ten days in Tunisia, about a thousands miles covered, eleven “cultural tourism experiences,” countless mosaics, tiles, and carved vaulted ceilings, and food… so much delicious food.
In days to come, I promise to put my thoughts and experiences into categories that will make sense and attempt to capture our rich and varied experiences. Right now, bear with me and enjoy the photos I sort of randomly grouped together into an album. I had my reasons. There are (from myself and my three fellow travelers) more than 1500 photos in our collective album, so I just grabbed a few and threw them together here.
So, more to come. Meanwhile, enjoy this kaleidoscope of photos to just get a glimpse of all the things we saw and did. I promise curated topics will be forthcoming!
In my last entry, I scratched the surface of the history and culture we encountered during our recent Alaska adventure. And teased that this second installment would do the same for the plants, animals – and glaciers.
Fauna first. Alaska is home to scads of land and aquatic animals, and of course hordes of birds, that is not exactly new news. We expected to see a fair amount of them, and we did. But it was usually from a distance, and the only binoculars we had were the ones the Viking folks kindly provided. Serviceable but not very good. So, lesson one: bring your own high powered binoculars if you go on an Alaska cruise, no matter how much space they take in your luggage!
I am particularly enamored of sea otters. (Who isn’t?) I’ve seen them “up close and personal” in Northern California and was somehow expecting to see them everywhere on our cruise. They were out there, just a bit too far away to appreciate. My pictures all show specs outlining their telltale head and flipper/feet profile. I began referring to them as “ESO” as in “elusive sea otter.”
There were bald eagles, orcas, other type of whales, seals, sea lions. A bear or two, salmon, mountain goats: all more or less from a distance. Instead of being disappointed, I started being philosophical about it. I knew they were out there, we were sharing space and I was experiencing and enjoying their landscape. But, really, why should I be impinging on their habitat and their peaceful day?
Flora second. The forests and foliage of Alaska are very cool. The best and closest chance we got to learn about the rainforest environment was a shore excursion to Glacier Gardens, a private and rather quirky swath of rainforest created by a man named Steve Bowhay and his wife beginning in the mid-1980s, and lovingly maintained and interpreted in detail by a cadre of seasonal devotee employees. First, you admire the “upside down trees” (uprooted in a storm, and “planted” roots up, with small gardens at the top, see photo) and other semi-maincured gardens at the base of the garden. Then, you ascend 600 feet up a corduroy (buried log) road in a sort of tram thing to a spectacular vista, learning about the rainforest as you go from the driver/guide. A bit terrifying, but very edifying and impressive.
And third, the glaciers. According to the U.S. Geological Survey web site, “A glacier is a large, perennial accumulation of crystalline ice, snow, rock, sediment, and often liquid water that originates on land and moves down slope under the influence of its own weight and gravity.” So, basically, a very, very slow-moving wall of ice that accumulates stuff as it goes. Too many glaciers to list, or even remember, were pointed out to us, some high in the mountain crevises. But the two most memorable ones to me were those that had reached the sea. They frequently shed big hunks (called “calving”) which I kept watching for but never really saw in action. But, no matter.
My two favorite glaciers that we saw on the trip were the Johns Hopkins Glacier which we sailed up as close as a hulking, 900-passenger cruise ship can get, and the Aialik Glacier which we saw even closer on a smaller boat during our tour of the Kenai Fjord National Park. Here is a very informative story map about glaciers at Kenai Fjords, if you are curious to know more about them. My impressive was a general disbelief that I was actually there, seeing them in person. And being really glad that, although I would have gotten a much closer look at both wildlife and glaciers, I was safe and relatively warm on my boat and not one of the people out there kayaking right up to the glacier. I like a good paddle, but I prefer the water and air temperature to be somewhat more temperate than even summer in Alaska, no matter how many layers of clothing I might have on and no matter what a good sweat I might work up.
It was sad when we had to disembark from the cruise ship in Seward and relegate ourselves to dry land. But the whole experience was enriching, awe-inspiring, and at times even breath-taking. (Literally, when a stiff wind and temperatures in the 40s hit you simultaneously.)
Here are some snaps, which don’t do justice really, but give some idea. And prove that despite my feeling of surreal disbelief, we were there. A highly recommended journey!
See the tiny black dot at center bottom? You guessed it, the ESO in its vast surroundings as seen from our statehouse balcony.This is how extremely cute the ESO is up close, as seen in our ship’s naturalist’s photos. (I’m told up close and personal they are also not anywhere as cuddly as they appear and they smell very fishy.)Most eagles we saw were hanging out, like this one, amid “civilization.” They have adapted quite well to living side by side with humans and their stuff it seems.Where there are glaciers there are icebergs. And often, harbor seals hanging out on them, which you can (maybe) see on the far right and as tiny specks in the farther away bergs. Most orcas are roughly the size of a school bus. But when seen in the context of the sweeping sea and landscapes of Alaska, and with only the aid of a phone camera, that just doesn’t register.I loved the way that public art (even on a dumpster!) depicted the local wildlife. Native art of course also reflects the natural world, as I reported in the last blog entry. Here, a walrus made of found materials including hub caps, at the State Museum in Juneau.It helps to know your bears, and to heed the advice not to approach them. Though here in Valdez I didn’t see any real bears, as they were not hanging around the salmon run that day. Just as well?Several times we learned how to remember the various types of salmon by the fingers on our hand: thumb/chum, pointer finger/sockeye (as the finger you would use to poke someone in the eye!), king/middle and longest finger, silver/ring, pinky/pin. But referring to this chart is handy too!An interpretive native garden in downtown Skagway. We learned that the profusion of light (and of course ample rain) in the summer months makes things grow faster and bigger, so the shorter growing season is somewhat compensated. And, your rhubarb grows to be enormous.“Upside down trees” at Glacier Gardens. Clever and a great for marketing the experience.The road you ascend in Glacier Gardens, 600 feet up, with running commentary by the driver/guide.View from the top of the hill.The plant in the foreground is Devil’s Club, also known as Alaskan Ginseng (though it is not in the same family as American Ginseng). But you know it got my attention when I heard that knickname!Like ginseng, Devil’s Club is proported to cure a variety of ills. The gift shop at Glacier Gardens carried products made from the plant, which apparently gets its name from its sharp and to-be-avoided spines!On our trip over White’s Pass in Skagway, our guide showed us where the wild blueberries were at one of our scenic stops. Picked a few to try, a yummy taste of the wild!Me, looking cold and not terribly happy, with Johns Hopkins Glacier in the background.The glacier is a lot more attractive without me in the photo.See the little black speck in the lower right hand portion of the photo? That is the kayakers at the base of Aialik Glacier. Call me unadventurous, but I preferred letting them lend scale to the photo than being them.
My sister and I recently returned from our maiden Viking ocean cruise, through and around Alaska’s Inner Passage. And despite that we both got sick (we won’t elaborate on that part of the experience), it was a trippy trip through a constantly changing landscape, along the way gathering insights into the state’s culture and history. Even before we started getting feverish, the whole experience seemed somewhat surreal.
Shore excursions, lectures on board, visits to museums, and our own research via the ship’s very good wifi, filled our brains with details, most of which I will probably forget. One thing seared into our brain from repetition, though, was the fact that the U.S purchased Alaska from Russia in the 1867 for 7.2 million dollars, which was roughly two cents per acre.
While the scenery is spectacular, and the wildlife is abundant (though not always evident), in this installment I am going to focus on a brief report on the communities we visited during shore excursions. Each had its own interesting character and history that we dipped our toes into, making for a kaleidoscope of impressions and factoids.
Ketchikan: Our first stop, having begun in Vancouver and spending the first day “scenic cruising” our way north. In the morning we did the “included” tour to the Potlatch Totem Park, a private collection of totem poles, native structures, and for some strange reason, antique cars. They do have an impressive collection, and a totem pole carving workshop, and it was a good introduction to the art. But, our second excursion was more of the real deal: a visit to Saxman Village, a Tlingit community a few miles outside of Ketchikan. Here, our excellent young guide Herbert started right in on the short walk from the bus to the gathering place, telling us about the plants along the path, and continued being informative (with a touch of humor) throughout the visit. (He was also one of the dancers in a brief performance.) A highlight was their more authentic totem carving workshop, presided over by National Heritage Fellow Nathan Jackson, and younger carvers. For a folklorist, the afternoon was a real treat! They also had a nice gift shop.
Sitka: Second on the agenda was Sitka, where we learned more about Alaska’s Russian heritage and visited the site where the territory was turned over to the U.S. The visit began with a slightly weird but still fun dance interpretation of the town’s history from a group called Alaska Storytellers, and then we were free to wander the small downtown, explore St. Michael’s Russian Orthodox Cathedral, and climb Castle Hill to read more about the history. (Did I mention that Alaska was purchased for 7.2 million dollars which was 2 cents per acre?)
Skagway: Skagway was next in the line-up. Here we learned about the area’s role in the 1890s Klondike Gold Rush, during a narrated trip up the White Pass (by bus, though for an extra cost you could do it by a historic railroad) and through the great interpretation in various buildings back in town. It’s hard to fathom the thousands of (mostly men) hoping to find their fortune in this impossibly rugged terrain, on their way to the Yukon. The only people who actually got rich were those who were selling the goods needed to make the trip. Each would-be gold prospector was required to lug approximately a ton of goods (!!) over a series of steep mountain passes to the point where they would catch a steamboat to the gold fields.
Juneau: Alaska’s capital city was the next stop. Our shore excursion took us to the excellent State Museum, and then to a private rain forest garden a few miles out of town. We didn’t explore too much of the city itself, only enough to note that the state capital (across the street from the state museum) is not exactly a paragon of beauty. (More like a big concrete box.) There was a great mural by native artist Crystal Worl depicting Elizabeth Peratrovich, kick-ass Alaskan civil rights activist, my new hero.
Valdez: Last town to be explored was Valdez. After a two-day scenic sail during which we saw mostly mountains and glaciers, it was somewhat pleasant to see a peopled place. Valdez, I learned by visiting the various museums there, had been beset by a huge earthquake in the 1964. The quake and ensuing tsumani pretty much leveled the town and left a lot of traumatized residents behind. (The oral histories on video at the museum were harrowing!) And then there was the oil spill…
Since these places are all only accessible from the outside world by water or air, at this point in my life I will probably never have the opportunity to visit them again. (As the advertisements of the cruise kept telling us, this was after all a “once in a lifetime experience.”) But I’m glad I did experience each one for a day, if just to skim the surface of their layers of history and culture. Here are some photos of the experience.
First glimpse of Ketchikan, coming into the harbor. Totem carving workshop #1, Potlatch Totem Park. Totem carving workshop #2, Saxman Village. Making no comparisons between the two, just saying resident carver here is a National Heritage Fellow. The infamous Seward (the guy who facilitated buying Alaska for 7.2 million dollars, which was how much per acre, now?) gets his own “shame pole” at Saxman Village. Herbert told us the story of why: Seward just did not get the concept of “potlatch” – that is, the community gives you lots of great presents, and then you are supposed to reciprocate. He left Alaska without giving the community anything, earning him this non-complimentary depiction.(Self explanatory.)Dancers perform the history of Sitka, including this interpretation of the sailing ships that brought the first white settlers (the Russians). Maybe they looked almost this pretty and ephermal from a distance to the native inhabitants, but unfortunately their occupants stayed, and just kept coming. St. Michaels has a dramatic backdrop of mountains. It sits right at the end of a very commercial street full of cafes and souvenir shops. Our lady of Sitka, one of the icons in St. Michaels. The most famous building on Skagway’s main drag is the “AB” (Arctic Brotherhood) Buidling, covered with over 8,000 pieces of driftwood. Its now a visitor’s center and part of the historical interpretation around town.Okay, so imagine yourself one of those thousands of souls who braved the Alaskan environment to find their fortune in the late 1880s. This is the sort of terrain of the White Pass you’d have to lug your gear and supplies over. And this goldminer’s graveyard outside of town is where you’d end up if you didn’t make it.Juneau welcome sign at the cruise ship dock. Part of the great collection of the State Museum. About half the displays are devoted to native art of the region.Valdez harbor. I opted out of kayaking on this trip since I thought I might get really cold. Probably a good thing.Interior of the Maxine and Jesse Whitney Museum includes lots of impressive taxidermy. (One way to get up close and personal with Alaskan wildlife without being eaten or trampled.)Valdez also has a lot of fun public art, including carved wooden sculptures sprinkled around town. Loved this bear who got the salmon before the fisherman did.Meanwhile, at the docks, a real fisherwoman held tight to her catch, and was very proud indeed.Preview of my next planned installment…glaciers, mountains, plants and wildlife!
Taking our trip around SW Indiana somewhat out of order, I am jumping to our day in French Lick and West Baden Springs, Indiana. In case you never heard of these historically significant towns, they are an example of those places where people took trains (or perhaps drove their motorcars) from “the city” (Indianapolis, or Chicago, or other Mid-Western metropolises) to “take the waters.”
The massive resorts had their ups and downs, which I will not elaborate on here, but happily survived Jesuits, fires, the Sheraton Hotel company, and other perils to be restored to their former glory. Today, the relatively wealthy and sometimes even famous spend time in the hallowed halls and grounds, getting spa treatments, gambling at the casino, taking in a show, playing golf or just relaxing. Peggy and I, however, took it all in (as the cheap voyeurs we are) without spending a dime.
Here, I shall share our itinerary for a couple of hours of historic splendor and awe. First, we did spend a few bucks fortifying ourselves with ice cream, and wandered around downtown French Lick. Unfortunately, it was Sunday and the historical museum was closed, but we got the gist of “Pluto Water” which was a one-time bottled product of the Springs, from objects readable from the museum’s window, and from an old advertisement on the side of one of the buildings. A jaunty, muscular devil was their brand icon, and their slogan was “When nature won’t, Pluto will” (I.e., this was a natural laxative kind of beverage).
Next, we drove across the road and parked (for free) at the expansive lot in front of the French Lick Hotel. On our way into the lobby, we read historic markers including one about the invention of tomato juice, and then ascended the impressive staircase. We marveled awhile at the ornate lobby, and inquired about the historic trolley which transports people to West Baden Springs, and stopped to glance over cases of historic artifacts (including more Pluto water paraphernalia) and the famous people photos.
Next, after waiting a few minutes at the charming little depot, we boarded the (free!) trolley for the one-mile clackety clack trip through the woods to West Baden Springs. We disembarked and headed straight into the hotel and through the lobby. Once dubbed “the Eighth Wonder of the World” (how many of those are there?), one really needs to experience the hotel’s massive central atrium, which features a 200-foot dome, for oneself to get a sense of its scale and unique design.
Luckily, again for free, mere mortals can loll on a couch in the atrium and stare up at the dome and the hotel rooms arranged around it, for as long as one likes. Peggy and I did just that, zoning out and watching the lights at the top of the dome changing colors. “Are we really here?” and “Is this really real?” we had to ask ourselves.
Breaking away from the mesmerizing atrium, we walked around the atrium to view the enormous Rookwood pottery fireplace, featuring “Sprudel” – an impish figure frolicking among the landscape of the artwork. We roamed the circular hallways enjoying historic photos, and spent a few minutes learning more about the property’s history in their tiny museum.
Here we learned that a movie had been recently shot in the hotel and on the grounds, called “How Cold the River” the plot of which leans heavily on a very ominous bottle of Pluto water. (We had to watch it, of course, after we got home to Peggy’s house. Not highly recommended for anything except the great views of the hotel, and a few laughs at the rather incomprehensible plot.)
After a brief amble around the garden, we climbed aboard the trolley to return through the woods and over the creek to French Lick, our car, and reality. Having spent not a penny, but all the richer for our trip through time and space.
Not actually The Devil, but Pluto, god of the underworld…close enough and still as creepy.Splendor #1, the lobby of the French Lick Hotel. Thank goodness an influx of millions saved it from the renovation done by the Sheraton Hotel company, which covered the amazing tile work and other ornamentation. What were they thinking??More homage to Pluto Water. The framed postcard at the bottom dated 1937 and says “Pluto keeps the tin canner on the can.” It looks like a camper made from a Pluto truck and/or advertising the water, which somehow was spotted in Kenosha, WI. That Pluto really got around.First view of the West Baden Springs hotel, exterior. It is hard to fathom what lies inside from here, but still highly impressive from the outside.And now… the star of the show! The Atrium. Note small love seat type couches, which is where we sprawled ourselves, totally entranced by the dome lights cycling through their colors. The windows all around the atrium are hotel rooms, and the approximately $300/night might be worth the view. Though dwarfed (so to speak) by the Atrium, Sprudel’s fireplace, made up of hundreds of pieces of famous Rookwood pottery, burned 14 foot logs… so nothing to scoff at. All aboard the magical historic trolley for the all too brief ride back to the real world!
